


you're my boo

by murakamism



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 07:20:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16363409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murakamism/pseuds/murakamism
Summary: Rey's neighbor Ben Solo is the only one who ever shows Halloween spirit around here. When she discovers he's moving out, she's only hurt because that means she won't have anymore competition... right?So she sets out on a plan to make him stay.





	you're my boo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dalzo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalzo/gifts).



> I was originally going to fill your canonverse ghosts prompt, but at the rate I was going, I knew that I wouldn't finish on time. I also wanted to write smut for this fic but... I just couldn't do it. I'm sorry OTL I would really like to expand on this fic someday
> 
> But still, I hope you enjoy the humor, the fluff, and the make-outs! <3

Cobwebs hanging from her front door? Check.

Creepy old mechanical crone that sways back and forth by the foot of her driveway? Check.

A trail of jack-o-lanterns lighting up the way to her front door? Check.

A fake graveyard complete with dismembered zombie hand crawling out from the earth? Right in her garden? Check.

Rey grins widely as she admires her own handiwork. When she’d first moved in here, the old house had been so ruined and dilapidated that it could pass off as another Halloween movie set. She wouldn’t have had to decorate so much.

But then she’d fixed up the entire thing with little to no help. She replaced rotting wood and frayed wiring. She hand-painted the entire thing inside and out until it sparkled with whiteness. She cleaned out the grime from all the windows until they shined. She turned an uninhabitable, dirt cheap, foreclosed house into her home—and she was proud of that.

So it’s natural for her to be overprotective of it. It’s natural that she wants to decorate it for each season, like wearing jewelry on top of a pretty outfit. Christmas? A labyrinth of tinsel and red and green Christmas lights blinking on and on and on. Easter? A smattering of hidden eggs to keep the neighborhood kids busy outdoors. It might be ridiculous, but she knows that if they actually had a neighborhood association, she would win “best decorated house” each year. Each season.

All of her other neighbors don’t really care about her decorating frenzy. And that’s fine, of course. Rey’s always had a competitive spirit, so that means she wins by default—

Except that every Halloween,  _ one other neighbor actually tries to match her. _

This is why she can’t exactly win her imaginary neighborhood association’s “best decorated house” award every year. It’s because the man who lives across the street—a dark, surly, recluse of a man—despite not caring about holidays or parties or generally being a friendly neighbor and decent human being, actually cares about Halloween.

Though caring is an understatement.

It makes sense, of course. If Ben Solo answered a Buzzfeed quiz titled “Which Holiday Are You?”, there’s no doubt he would get Halloween. She knows that for sure, and not just because she tried answering it while pretending to be him. He’s tall, dark, and mysterious. Which is normally a good thing, except that he also seems allergic to sunlight and other human beings. A kid’s ball once fell into his yard while he was raking leaves, and as soon as he made eye contact, the child ran away bawling his eyes out—the ball all forgotten.

Rey has yet to see him wear anything other than fifty shades of black. (Though that also includes the one time she realized she could see right into his bedroom window, could see the wide expanse of his pale, broad back as he changed out of his sweaty gym clothes. As he pulled off his shirt and shorts, she was greeted by a lovely image—him in skintight black boxers. And, well, Rey had to pull down her blinds once he moved to tug them down because the idiot was offering her a free show) 

So yes, Rey has yet to see him wear anything other than black. Rey has also yet to see his house—huge, old,  _ expensive _ —bare for Halloween. What the man lacks in friendliness he makes up for in enthusiasm for his scariness, and through the years, this has included: stuffed spiders that have been programmed to fall onto whoever knocks on his front door, soft cackling and mumbling coming from speakers hidden God knows where, and way-too-realistic cardboard cutout of various ghouls peeking out from his windows, among other things.

Their little rivalry has grown over the years. She always wanted to decorate bigger, decorate better. And then Ben Solo would follow—as they would almost top each other each time. This year Rey has better plans, and she jogs around in excitement as she wonders how he’ll react this time. She’s only halfway done with decorating, and there’s a surprise in store for him that won’t be obvious just yet…

The noise of a car engine putters into the street as she’s bent over her gravestones. Rey pops up at the noise and turns her head to discover Ben’s car pulling in front of his house. He exits his car and slams the door shut, his giant shoulders rolling back and straining through the fabric of his shirtsleeves.

He jangles the car keys in his hand. Rey smiles at him, contented by the progress she’s making.

“If you don’t start decorating now, I’ll beat you with no effort!” she exclaims.

Ben turns towards her. Their eyes meet, and she can swear that she sees something flickering on his lips—the making of a scowl? A smile? She isn’t sure, but it vanishes just as quickly as it arrives.

His house is bare, even though there’s only a little over a week until Halloween left.

“I won’t be decorating this year,” he replies.

Rey raises a brow. “Are you giving up so easily?”

Usually when she teases him, he gives into the bait. This time though, he just shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs.

“No, I’m moving.”

Rey’s eyes widen.

“What? When?”

“I don’t know. Maybe next week.” He rubs the back of his neck and then looks away, gaze falling softly on the pavement. His voice lowers, and the next words are almost mumbled. “You should keep it up, though.  _ Someone  _ needs to show this place the right Halloween spirit.”

Rey’s too stunned to speak. She only stares at him, stares at the way his jaw tightens.

“Yeah, I’m… going now.” He adds. Ben shakes his head and then bolts away, those ridiculously long legs getting him to the front door within seconds.

Even after his front door has shut with an ominous thud, Rey is still staring. Her mouth falls open in disappointment. She has to grip the edge of a fake gravestone just to deal with the sudden wave of bitterness in her chest.

_ Why? _

Rey should be glad that she’s winning the competition by default. Instead, she seethes.

  
  


It only takes a few seconds of angry knocking before she’s face to face with an utterly confused Ben. His brows are scrunched up terribly.

Rey has her arms crossed over her chest. Ben’s mouth falls open to ask her a question, but she beats him to it, skips all of the niceties for a question of her own.

“Why are you moving?” she asks. It comes off as sharp and demanding, and even Rey recoils at the bitterness of her tone. Ben’s mouth drops open and he stares at her, the makings of a frown already tugging on his lips. He huffs.

“Why do you care?” he snaps. “Most people would be glad I’m leaving this place.”

Rey falters. At first she’d been content to yell at him some more, but now she takes a step backwards, hit with the realization that  _ yes, she is very much bothered.  _ Ben is still glaring at her, and she has to somehow explain that she is the only person in this neighborhood who would be unhappy that he’s leaving.

She clears her throat.

“It’s not satisfying to win if you’re the only player,” she explains. Rey changes the subject. “Anyway, I’m being  _ polite.  _ You’ve lived here forever. Is something wrong?”

The edge of his mouth twitches. At least his shoulders fall, and she can sense him backing down. Ben shakes his head.

“No, everything’s fine. I just thought that maybe it’s time for a change of scenery.” He looks down at his feet, at the scuffed up mat by his front door. Rey’s still standing on it. He pauses, weighing the next few words in his mouth. “You know, I wasn’t ever supposed to stay here this long.”

Rey snaps up to meet his gaze. “What do you mean by that?” she asks gently.

“This is my parents’ house,” he explains. He avoids her gaze again, this time focusing on a spot above her shoulder. “I was supposed to sell it.”

They’re quiet for a while. Rey continues. “…But you never did.”

Ben turns away. “Yeah, well, I think it’s about time I moved back to the city. This place is too big for just me.” He swallows. “Bye, Rey.”

And then he slams the door shut in her face.

Rey reels back, offended. She yells an obscenity at him, but he never opens the door again.

He can’t possibly think that’s a decent goodbye.

She needs a plan.

  
  


Step One.

Every Sunday morning, Ben goes out for his early jog. He plugs his ears with music, stretches in front of his house, and then runs down the length of their street, following the way it curves to the nearest park. Throughout the years, he's mastered which route to take: the one that bumps into the least amount of people. Even Rey is impressed.

The next Sunday, she decides to join him.

She's dressed in her favorite hoodie and leggings, already stretching in front of her driveway. When Ben emerges from his house, midway to plugging his ears, he looks up to find Rey grinning at him from across the street.

His eyes widen infinitesimally.

"Hey, neighbor," Rey greets. "Mind if I join you on a run?"

Ben approaches, already jogging. He shrugs one shoulder.

"Sure, if you can keep up."

The rest of the street is empty. They have the entire horizon to themselves; the rest of the neighborhood is still asleep. Ben and Rey stand shoulder to shoulder, bouncing on their toes as they get ready to start.

"I think you'll be surprised," Rey throws over her shoulder. "I go pretty fast."

"Oh, do you?"

Rey leaps forward without warning. "Less talking, more jogging!"

Ben grits his teeth and spurts forward just as she does. His legs are longer, and he catches up in no time. Within seconds, it's clear that they've graduated from plain jogging. They sprint down the street, their sneakers slapping against the concrete. Rey pants and huffs, feeling the way her legs burn even in the chilly autumn air.

Ben breathes mechanically in small puffs. Rey spares him a glance from the corner of her eye. His hair is windswept, flying back with his movements. Upon feeling her gaze, he turns his head towards hers to meet her eyes.

Rey smiles and sprints faster.

Ben makes a strangled noise. Rey can't resist her laugh when they chase each other, neither one gaining a distance more than a few inches. They take turns with leading and falling behind, their breaths filling the air as they grow more and more tired.

They snake down the entire street, pass the closed shops, even cut through the park. Instead of stopping by the gates, they leap over the tiny fences, and start running on the dewy grass. Ben's huffs fill her ears.

The back wall of the park finally comes into view. It's a tall fence, one that has to be scaled. Rey would scale it if she weren't so exhausted, if her lungs didn't feel like giving up.

They both slam against the fence. Their bodies thump loudly, shaking the steel and causing it to ring hollowly. Rey lets out exhausted huffs. She grips the holes of the chainlink fence with a hand to keep herself up as beads of sweat drip down her forehead.

Ben isn't faring any better. He groans and then slides down to the ground, his legs buried in the grass. He rests his head against the fence, shutting his eyes tight.

Rey slumps down to join him.

Only their breaths fill the air between them.

Eventually, Rey takes that moment to speak.

"You know," she says, stil panting. "This is the type of run you could only do in the suburbs."

Ben gasps as he attempts to answer.

"Huh?"

Rey adjusts her ponytail. "Can you even jog in the city? Won't you get run over? Get stuck behind pedestrians? Get coffee spilled all over you? Have to spend hundreds of dollars on a gym membership?"

"Cities have parks, Rey." Ben's voice is flat.

Rey folds her legs beneath her.

"Yeah, well," she looks up to feel a breeze on her face. "They don't have peace and fresh air."

Ben hums.

A nest of birds chirps high up in the tree nearby. The rays of the sun threaten to spill over the clouds.

Ben doesn't respond. The two of them sit there, their bottoms stained by grass and dew, as they wait for their breaths to settle.

 

Step Two.

Rey can’t cook.

Well, scratch that. She can cook, but she can’t cook that well. She’s always been fine with devouring whatever she created (food is food, thank you very much), but the last time she brought potluck to her work party, Jessica had smiled politely before turning green. Yes, she saw that.

So when her pumpkin pie comes out of the oven looking more like the burnt entrails of a jack-o-lantern, she is disappointed but not surprised. Oh well. More dessert for her.

That’s why she finds herself standing in front of Ben Solo’s house, store-bought pumpkin pie in her hands (that she heated herself at home, so that there was a  _ bit  _ of home-made-ness to it), as she rings his doorbell.

He opens the door and blinks at her wearily.

“Hey,” Rey greets him with a bright grin. She shoves the pie into his face, and he almost goes cross-eyed as he stares at it. “I got you a farewell present. Since I’m a good neighbor and, you know, that’s what we do around here.”

Ben glances up to meet her eyes. Her smile doesn’t falter.

“C’mon,” she says. “It’s not radioactive, Ben.”

He snorts and opens the door wider. “Okay, thank you. Come in.”

She blinks but follows him through the doorway anyway, not expecting to have been invited inside. Ben takes the tin from her hands and weaves seamlessly through the doorway, his large strides silent on his polished wooden floors. As Rey follows him dutifully, her hands clasped behind her back, she takes that moment to marvel at the inside of his house.

Yes, it does match the grandness of its facade. The furniture is clearly antique, old and classy and expensive. The ceilings are high, complete with random arches above some doorways. The fancy sofas and recliners are fit for a nineteenth-century noble, and she almost whistles when she spots a bunch of marble figures and porcelain vases hanging around dusty corners. It’s a far cry from her own home, her home that’s mainly made of scavenged bits and discounted furniture that more often than not she’s had to refurbish herself.

Rey glances at the back of Ben’s head. He said this was his parents’ house, and she can believe that. He’s always been mysterious and dignified, but this giant mansion looks more like a noble’s home rather than a vampiric coffin. Rey thinks of the giant living room that sits empty, that could fit in a party with everyone on their street. The countless shut doors--who even needs that many rooms?

Eventually, they arrive at the kitchen. Ben sets the pie on a long marble countertop. The counter is mainly polished but empty, and it contains nothing else but a rack on the other end that only holds two mugs. Ben pulls out two plates and forks from a nearby drawer, and Rey rests her arms on the countertop as she watches him go.

The plates clank noisily in the kitchen; the echoes go far.

She suddenly understands what he means by this house being too big for just him.

“You’re quiet for once,” Ben murmurs offhandedly. He hands her a fork and a plate, sliding it across the table. She pulls out a stool and takes a seat, settling in comfortably. He leans forward and seems content with standing.

“You’ve never invited me in before,” Rey ponders. Ben digs into the pie with his fork, and the two of them watch as the crust crumbles to reveal the filling inside. “Actually, have you ever invited anyone else willingly?”

He snorts.

“I only invite those I intend to kill,” he says blankly.

“But I got you a present,” Rey whines. “Spare me, vampire.”

Ben barks out a laugh. It’s strange and loud, but much less stiff than expected. A smile tugs at the edges of her lips.

His eyes light up once he shoves a forkful of pie into his mouth.

“Oh, wow, this is good,” he mumbles while chewing. “Your offering is accepted. You will be spared.”

Rey raises her arms in mock surrender. “Thank you, o gracious Lord Solo.”

“Come on,” he cuts into his slice again. “Eat it with me. I can’t finish this entire thing.”

Rey tilts her head to the side. It’s a big pie, yeah, but she could eat it all by herself. It’s that good. And surely Ben can too, judging by how big he is. If he couldn’t finish it, then he could always stuff the leftovers in the fridge. Rey knows this would still be delicious even two days on.

But he’s invited her inside… and invited her to eat with him… and he’s not kicking her out? Hasn’t even insulted her once? Odd, odd, odd.

It makes her belly feel anxious.

He doesn’t stop chewing.

“Ben,” Rey starts. “Are you seriously moving out next week?”

He doesn’t meet her eyes. His voice is low.

“Yeah.”

The anxiety in her belly sinks like a heavy stone. She bites her lip.

“Will you at least stay for Halloween?”

He finally looks up to meet her eyes. She isn’t sure what she was expecting, but it’s not that. It’s not the wide, liquid brown of his eyes. Not the sad little quirk of his lips that must be his version of a smile.

“Sure,” he says. “But I’m afraid I can’t compete with your holiday spirit.”

He sounds so _ sad _ . Why does he have to sound so sad? It’s dumb.

Rey swallows.

“Um,” she slides down from her stool. “I just remembered… I left the stove on.”

When she turns around and runs off, Ben yelps out a couple of words, but she’s exited his house without another thought.

  
  


This is getting ridiculous.

Rey lies in bed as she stares at her ceiling. A box of disassembled Halloween decorations sits by the foot of her bed, almost forgotten. She’s not in the mood for doing any decorating. In fact, she isn’t in the mood for Halloween at all.

It’s the one thing that she’d been looking forward to for the past two months. And yet now… now, she dreads the date. Because after October 31st, Ben Solo will be gone from her life.

Somehow, the idea is too painful to bear.

She doesn’t get it.

Rey rolls to her side to face the window. Ben’s own bedroom is in view, but this time, his room is shrouded by blinds. She wishes that she could see a bit of him, even just his silhouette. She’s intensely curious about what he’s doing right now (and maybe  _ how _ he’s doing), which is weird, because that makes her sound like a creep, doesn’t it? But she promises it’s not creepy. He’s just been on her mind more often recently. He’s been popping into her thoughts like an annoying little mole that she wishes she could whack but never could.

Now why is that?

Going down that line of thought leads her into dangerous territory. When she considers all the variables, all the evidence, her reactions only lead to one conclusion…

Well, two conclusions.

The first is that she’s gone crazy.

The second is one that she doesn’t want to dwell on too much, even though the realization hits her so hard that she can’t just forget it.

_ Oh shit _ .

Ben Solo, the grumpy man who lives across her. Ben Solo, with his luxurious black hair and moody, expressive eyes. Ben Solo, with his dry sense of humor. Those plush lips that she’s only ever seen laugh in her presence. That passionate competitive spirit that’s somehow kept up with hers throughout the years. The way he looks at her sometimes, soft and shy, as if she’s done something particularly endearing.

And the way he’d twirled the fork around his fingers, making the utensil look much much smaller than it really was.

Rey whimpers.

Oh no. Oh no no no.

She is so fucked--

Well, not fucked yet. Although that’s a potential goal she has in mind for the future.

(That information is classified, by the way)

Her eyes flick up towards the calendar. It’s October 29th.

Time for Plan C.

  
  


Step Three.

Invite Ben over for a Halloween party she’s throwing that weekend. Check.

Get rejected because he’s bad at socializing. Duh. Check.

Be chagrined, and be glad that you don’t actually have to throw the party. Food for everyone is expensive, okay? Ah, check.

Invite Ben over for a night of horror movie marathons instead, because if he loses their decoration war by default then he needs to do whatever she wants.

Not… check.

Rey’s about to knock on his door, the words already formulated in her head, when she suddenly realizes how dumb it is and turns away. They’ve never agreed on the loser’s punishment before, mainly because neither of them wanted to think of losing. Well.

By the time Halloween rolls around, Rey is hovering around her house anxiously. She’s already got bowls of candy set up near her front door. There’s a lot more than the neighborhood kids even need, but that’s fine, because the leftovers are for her. Duh.

For once, she hasn’t gone all the way for her Halloween costume either. She’s foregone the usual ghoulish make-up and wig. She’s foregone the ugly prosthetics. She isn’t wearing a mask either, although she does have a self-made scythe. It glints ominously by her doorway.

It would be dumb, Rey thinks, if the last day she’d ever see Ben, if the night they would say goodbye to each other, would be one spent in something she’s not. So today she goes for the route that she usually ridicules: the closet Halloween costume, because at least it’s still her.

(And she hopes not to scare him away by what she plans to do next)

The very first Halloween they’d competed, she had been wearing a witch costume. She had the pointy hat, the ugly prosthetic nose, even a fake raven on her shoulder. Now she’s barefaced, mainly, with the exception of a dab of red lipstick. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, although she’s sure that she’ll get a case of hat hair from her pointy witch hat. And yes, her costume is a bit uncreative this year: a skintight black dress, fishnets, black boots, but she’s taking inspiration from American Horror Story, so suck it.

As the kids come knocking at her door, all dressed in adorable costumes, she finds herself looking up at the house across the street. Ben’s door remains shut, and no trick or treaters find their way to his entryway.

She bites her lip.

Eventually, her first bowl of candy runs out. The sun has long set, leaving the neighborhood dark and ominous, only lit up by lamplight and the party next door. Rey sighs and then grabs an empty bowl, cradling it in her arms as she heads to Ben’s door.

She knocks.

And knocks.

And knocks.

Eventually, she gets annoyed enough to yell.

“BEN!”

The door swings open and she ends up yelling right in Ben’s ear. He grimaces, looking like the portrait of misery. Rey snaps her mouth shut.

“What?” he mumbles. She ignores his greeting.

“Trick or treat!” Rey exclaims, holding out her gigantic bowl. Ben blinks at her. She isn’t sure whether or not he’s in costume; he’s wearing all black as usual. And his hair is slightly damp.

“I don’t have any candy,” Ben says slowly. Rey shakes her head.

“That just won’t do, Ben.” She clears her throat. “If you don’t give me a treat, then I’ll have to play a trick.”

He raises both brows. “Okay.”

“You won’t like it.”

He stares at her blankly.

“Fine. Trick.”

Rey throws the empty bowl to the side. She can hear it land somewhere on the grass. At the next moment, she surges forward and grabs Ben by the collar to pull him down. She smashes their mouths together in a rough kiss, one that’s growing more and more painful by the second. For a moment he freezes, and she vaguely wonders if he’s remembered to breathe, and then his mouth is opening to meet her lips properly and  _ oh _ , he tastes like pumpkins.

She doesn’t consider whether or not this is a bad idea. Oh, yeah, it probably is, but her brain is too short-circuited to even care. Warmth floods her entire body from her head to her toes as she licks his lower lip, and Ben growls, the noise low in his throat. The sound of it makes her flush with heat, with embarrassing excitement. When he kisses her again she finds that his large hands are settling on her hips and, wait, wait, he’s pulling her up into the air like she weighs nothing.

Rey yelps as her feet leave the ground. Ben spins her around and then brings her inside, the door closing behind both of them.

The noise of the door thudding shut makes her jump. The living room is dark and full of shadows. Ben crowds Rey against his front door. He pins in her in place, an arm above her head as he stares her down intensely. She swallows, hyper-aware of their proximity. When she tries to kiss him again, he interrupts.

“What are you doing?” he asks. His voice is hoarse.

“Kissing you, you idiot,” she snaps. Isn’t that obvious?

He groans. “I thought you said you were playing a trick.”

“I … did.”

“Is this just a trick, Rey?”

It’s not fair. It’s not fair how he leans in close until his hot breath brushes the shell of her ear. How he traps her chin between two long fingers, holding her jaw in place. Rey shivers against the doorway, and she’s not sure what she wants to do next. She swallows.

“Are you playing a trick on me?” Ben asks again. “Is this just a game to you?”

Rey shuts her eyes tight and shakes her head.

“No,” she whispers. “I know what this is, and it’s not a game, Ben.”

“Then say it.” Ben replies. “Say it out loud.”

Rey opens her eyes and looks into his own. His pupils are dilated and deliciously dark. She can feel the heat from his body pressed against her own.

“You’re a vampire.”

Ben snorts and then bursts into laughter. He drops her jaw and trembles, covering his face with a hand. Rey crosses her arms over her chest and then stares at him, stares at the way his shark-like grin erupts all over his mouth. She wants to kiss every centimeter of it.

“Happy Halloween to you too,” he finally grumbles, the mirth still dancing in his eyes. When he meets her gaze again, Rey can’t help but smile back.

“It won’t be a happy one if this is the last Halloween I’ll see you,” she blurts out.

Ben’s eyes are wide. Whatever electrically-charged passion between them had fizzled away with their laughter, but now it’s awake again. Heightened. Rey shuts her mouth and tries not to regret the confession.

“Rey,” Ben starts. “I…”

“Please don’t move away.” She swallows. “Please don’t go.”

The next few minutes are a blur. Just as Rey throws her arms around his shoulders, Ben leans forward for another kiss. Their lips meet hungrily. She’s pleasantly surprised to discover that it takes a lot of effort just to wrap her arms around his back. He’s so wide, so warm, and--

The doorbell rings loudly in their ears.

“Trick or treat!” some muffled kids’ voices from outside.

Ben swears and looks left and right, his brows furrowing into harsh lines. He doesn’t let go of Rey though, not even when they have to part. He blindly picks up a black rubber mask from a nearby table and tugs it on. His ears are sticking out. Rey snorts.

“What?” he asks, voice muffled. Rey shakes her head.

“That’s the worst mask I have ever seen.”

She can’t see his face, but she just knows he’s offended.

“It’s supposed to be Vader from Galactic Wars.”

Rey rolls her eyes.

Ben sets her down and opens the front door with one hand. Just as two adorable little faces come into view, Ben sticks his head out of the doorway and…

“Boo!”

The kids scream.

“I’m all out of candy. Go away.”

The kids turn and flee. Ben shuts the door with a click.

Rey sighs. She tugs the mask off his head as soon as they’re alone again. Ben’s hair is mussed up terribly, but he meets her gaze with a shy grin. She’s never seen his ears exposed before, she realizes. It’s cute.

Without thinking, she reaches out to touch them. Ben freezes.

“Um.”

“Um,” she parrots, dropping her hand.

Ben groans. He clears his throat and looks away, cheeks growing pink.

“So, I was planning to watch a movie before you came over. Want to join me?” he asks. Rey grips the hem of his shirt, because he’s  _ still  _ holding onto her. She nods.

“Sure. What movie?”

“Hereditary.”

Her grin grows wide. “ _ Ohh,  _ I heard that one’s  _ good. _ ”

He returns the smile. 

“It is. It’s probably not the kind of film you should watch alone either, so, uh, I’m glad you came along.”

“Aww, Ben, are you a scaredy cat?”

“No, but maybe  _ you’re  _ a scaredy cat.”

“Excuse me,” Rey huffs. “I’ve watched every good horror film there is.”

“You have?” Ben’s hand finally drops to his side. “I need to catch up then.”

“We could have a marathon tonight!” Rey suggests. She grabs his arm and hugs it to her side. “I could also get my DVDs--”

“If we don’t finish tonight we could always… um… do next week?”

Rey’s nodding before she realizes the implications.

“Wait, but you’ll have moved out by then!”

Ben’s face is crimson even in the dark.

“Actually, you know what.” He clears his throat. “I changed my mind. Maybe this neighborhood isn’t so bad, after all.”


End file.
